Endless Revels of Life
by Vivious Circle
Summary: It began with a comedy... But it is often so that the tragedy is preceded by the comedy. And so was this time.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

'And this is supposed to be the hero to save us all from Valsharess...' Valen snorted, eying the slender frame of the half-elf coursing all around the Lyth Myatar inn, with her small shoulders, probably unable to lift anything heavier than a bag of feathers, and thin waist he could probably encircle with his palms only. Not much more than a thin stick… In melee fight with something bigger than a starved goblin she wouldn't survive a second. He'd find ironic the situation in which this frail creature was meant to save their whole rebel while he could not, that is, if he wasn't stuck in the middle of this grim reality. He scowled at her again trying to discover in his heart some hidden stash of enthusiasm for being assigned as the half-elf's guard by the Seer.

He already had an ample opportunity to express his feelings towards their newest savior and they weren't of the friendly kind. On their first meeting in simple words he openly voiced all doubts he had about _her_ being a hero sent here by Eilistraee to protect the Seer in his stead and defeat Valsharess' army, doubted that the Seer's visions were in fact sent by her goddess and not from some more nefarious source, and even outwardly threatened the small half-elf not to even think about trying to betray them. All his warnings seemed to have fallen to deaf ears however, since the supposed hero shrugged off all his attempts of intimidation, and the only response Valen received was an absent smile and a question.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked him then, still smiling with her eyes glowing strange, like if she was high. He was taken aback by it for a moment long enough to send her into a fit of giggles. She left without saying another word, moving gracefully through the crowd of guards, acolytes and faithful filling the temple, humming some indistinctive melody. He stared at the crowd for a long moment after she left.

In drow society such a question would equal a suggestion, if asked by a female it could even be interpreted as an order, but she was from the surface… Valen didn't have the slightest idea what could she possibly mean by asking that.

Soon he found out that drow and surface societies weren't all that different, at least in the terms of communication between the opposite genders. The half-blood elven woman shamelessly flirted with every man she met, battling her eyelashes at Rizovir, Lyth Myatar's best smith, to get a discount on extensive repairs her armor desperately required, twisting strands of her long brown mane between her fingers until Thamas the mage sold her potions almost for free and making eyes at him, her new bodyguard, for some unfathomable reason. There was no sign of dominance in her advances towards other men, but not much of respect either. She was just like any drow woman, using her 'superior' set of chromosomes to win her goals, only that she was completely different.

Valen let his eyes linger a bit longer at her silhouette, picking a moment when she stood in place ordering a drink by the bar, or rather asking the barkeep to give it to her for free. A perfect manipulator, if not for the fact that she didn't seem to take the effect she had on man as some sort of advantage, almost as if she believed that they all were doing it out of sheer goodness of their hearts, instead of being blinded by her looks. And she was something to look at. Her frail build Valen wasn't so thrilled about, made her look fragile and harmless, a good feature to attract drow males, while her curves were defined and made her look sensual but not plump. With her face she could be taken for a model of a statue of a goddess, but when looked closer Valen couldn't tell what made it so. Her lips, eyes, nose, all looked perfectly ordinary, and only when regarded together were creating a beautiful vision her face was. No wonder all she needed to do was to smile for almost any man to want to jump into fire for her.

Valen cringed, seeing he picked her attention watching her from his table in the inn. The Seer made him the half-elf's personal guard only an hour ago and she already annoyed the hell out of him. Through all her beauty and charm he couldn't find it in himself to stand her constant flirting and general mindlessness. What she was saying made sense only as long as no one listened to her. Most didn't bother with listening though.

"You need anything, my dear horny protector?" she asked sliding her fingers along one of his horns, leaning forward to give him a nice lookout at her cleavage. Valen tried hard to suppress his irritation.

"Do you even know what a tiefling is?" he asked rhetorically, pushing her hands away from his horns. Her fingers looked slender and frail, like if she hadn't held a weapon in her hand even once. It was doubtful that she'd be of any aid in an upcoming conflict, but then again if she was to betray them to Valsharess the threat would be minimal.

"A creature with a sexy pair of horns?" she asked in response. Intelligence didn't seem to be one of her best traits either.

"I have demon's blood in my veins" he explained as shortly as he could, already aware of the fact that his new companion had an attention span of a gold fish. Definitely not a material for a spellcaster.

"Cool!" she uttered with awe in her voice. Valen fought the urge to bang his head at the wooden surface of the table.

"Don't you understand what it means?! I'm partly a demon, I have to control its rage for every moment of my life. I…" Valen stopped, realizing that not a word of what he says gets to the woman standing before him. She was already looking around for a new target of her primitive advances.

"Get ready to travel through the Underdark" he sighed. "We depart in seven hours." And he was to keep her safe while traveling through one of the most dangerous places in Aber Toril… Rarely Valen doubted his strength, but now, in face of this new challenge, one of such moments came.

"It'll be fun together… I promise" the half-elf licked her lips in what was meant to be a seductive manner and sat close beside him. Valen wasn't surprised to realize that her supposed 'charm' didn't work on him at all. His tail lashed back and forth speaking of his irritation.

And then she beamed cheerfully and disappeared, when one of the drow heading to the bar passed her on his way, probably the last male in the inn she hadn't irritated or provoked with her tactless flirts. She was clearly off her head.

----------

"How was your first day in drow city, Deekin?" the same woman asked seven hours later, after they crossed the outer gates of Lyth Myatar, despite the fact that only a moment ago Nathyrra warned her against speaking out loud in the caves without authentic need.

Their party 'leader' looked quite different now, with her brown hair, previously set loose to fall in a wavy cascades on her shoulders and back, long so it almost touched the tiled floor of the inn, now tied on the back of her head and hidden under her ornamented helmet, her lithe waist covered by her repaired armor, blackened not to betray her position in the darkness and with half-elf's goddess' holy symbol carved with care, placed on the front of the plate by Rizovir, so far a devoted if secretive follower of Lloth. A solid hammer hung by her belt and she looked like every inch an adventurer.

She remained just as mindless though, Valen noticed dourly.

"It was nice!" her reptilian pet croaked in answer. The tiefling weaponmaster couldn't guess why she would take a less than three feet tall scaled songster for a venture into Underdark. Not that after what he saw from her character Valen suspected the Seer's supposed hero had any slightest traces of common sense.

"Everybody was nice to Deekin, boss! They were all looking at Deekin and everybody smiled! When Deekin writes another book about your adventures, there will be a lot of good things about drow!" The little creature went on about how the day has been perfect.

"There is something about her, isn't it?" Nathyrra's whisper sounded to Valen's right. He was used to not seeing her enough not to flinch every time she spoke from the shadows even demon's eyes couldn't penetrate.

"You're kidding, right?" Valen snorted quietly, not to be heard by the half-elf or her kobold friend. Yes, there had to be something that made her survive, even on the surface, for so long. But it wasn't intelligence, or strength, or endurance. Either it was hidden very deeply, or it wasn't there at all.

"You tell me. You're the one staring at her all the time." Valen heard Nathyrra and with some surprise he detected some measure of jealousy drow assassin wasn't able to conceal.

"I had great time too" the half-elf ahead of the pair finally managed to interrupt Deekin's waffle. "Everybody is so nice here, in the Underdark. It's really not true what they say in all this tales…"

"Err… boss? Not everybody is nice. Goatman isn't."

'Goatman? And who would be…' Harsh truth cut Valen sharply. A quiet sound of Nathyrra's laughter came from the shadows to his left.

"Valen?" The pair continued their conversation, despite the fact that its object stood only three steps away and could hear their every word. "He's just a bit shy. I'm sure that deep inside he's just a timid kind-hearted man who doesn't know how to behave when people are nice to him."

Nathyrra's laughter became a choking sound of someone rolling on the floor, holding her stomach like it was about to burst. Valen grunted, desperately wishing for some monster Underdark was supposed to be filled with to come, lured by the noise of their constant yapping. 'You are here to protect her' he reminded himself over and over again, in an attempt to stop thinking about ending this idiotic conversation, or even better, leaving her to her own fate in the middle of the Underdark.

"And besides, he was nice when he told me he was a tiefling and he had demon's blood in him, and that's why he has these sexy horns!"

The former Red Sister was probably on the verge of fainting from the lack of oxygen already, unable to take a breath through giggles. Where did all the umber hulks go all of sudden?! Valen didn't remember walking longer than five minutes in these corridors without budging on at least one of those monsters. Now of course they all had to vanish.

"And I talked to the Seer and she told me that Valen is only so unpleasant because he's afraid that…"

Some merciful hooked horror finally appeared, leaping from the ceiling only inches before the surprised half-elf. Valen sighed with relief and charged at it, drawing his flail.

"Into flames we leap!" he yelled, aiming a blow at the creature's head. Just happy not to be forced to hear what the Seer told about him, he missed to see one of the monster's hook-like limbs as it slipped through his defenses and bore a long gush on his arm, tearing through the enchanted metal and getting stuck in it. Valen hissed in pain and fell to his side, his weapon missing the monster's head in wide arc. Thanks to years of practice with his flail, the tiefling managed to hold on to his weapon despite the throbbing pain in his arm, radiating to his whole body. Not that he could use it, now that he was on the ground in his plate not sturdy enough to protect him, but heavy enough to keep him where he was. Last time he heard her, Nathyrra was rolling on the ground and probably wouldn't get on her feet on time to stop the monster's curved claw, heading towards his exposed head…

A smash of sound made Valen see stars for the first time in his life and he wasn't even in the centre of where the spell hit – just between hooked horror's eyes, or rather a place where a surface creature could have eyes. The tiefling had a place in a first row to watch the flirt, the unpromising, stupid, feeble half-elf smash the creature's head inside its shell-armor in what could truly be called a fountain of blood, even without involvement of an aspiring bard.

"Die filth!" the armored woman hissed, changing her handgrip on her hammer. The blue gem on the weapon's pommel instantly sent a sparkling wave of electricity through enemy's body, frying it to a smelly crisp. The empty shell of a hooked horror, now filled only with burned remains fell on the ground just before Valen, giving him a nice lookout at the extent of the damage the monster was exposed to.

"Who's supposed to protect who, sweetheart?" she gave Valen a smile, just as absent-minded as usual, that would better befit a village idiot, than a woman who just crushed a monster's scull to tiny bloody bits. She knelt by him, touching the wound on his arm, ignoring his flabbergasted expression.

"Sharess, your faithful war priestess Varia'del calls to you. Let me heal my horned protector."

The pain in his arm lessened at once, becoming o wave of pleasant warmth and with shock Valen noticed the wound closing before his very eyes, leaving only tingling sensation, without a trace of a scar. Only one cleric he ever saw could perform such a powerful healing in one instant. The Seer.

And he thought… She was too different from any priestesses he ever saw… the evil ones, summoning his demonic masters from the depths of Abyss, the vicious priestesses of Lloth, the gentle and wise Seer… Only now he understood how different gods could be outside the monotheistic drow society.

"Goatman is not as strong as he looked" Deekin commented from his boss' side, with a comical frown of a reptilian mouth, holding his little crossbow, which looked more like a toy than a weapon. "And the drow lady only lied on the ground and then watched boss fighting wide-eyed. They be not good."

"Don't worry Deekin" Varia rose to stand and patted dumb-struck Valen's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll take care of them."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

He smiled when she turned to him and saw him watch her, from his silent corner of the tavern in Lith My'athar. Immediately forgetting about a drow she was talking to, she walked through the passage in the crowd, which automatically opened before her whenever she wanted to pass, and stopped before him. Smiling again she sat on his lap circling her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes without embarrassment. He felt blush crawling up the skin on his neck and face, but that was just how she was. She didn't mean anything that would possibly make him blush, it was just a natural way of behaving for her. The surface must have been a strange place, he found himself thinking more and more often, but this thought for once was accompanied with some measure of willingness to see it. He didn't feel it when the Seer mentioned Eilistraee's moon or her visits to the surface of Toril. The drow priestess never mentioned anything like _that_.

"The Seer knows about our success and even the people of Lith My'athar are beginning to think that we have a chance win this war after all. You did an excellent job" Valen praised her, the best he could. Seer's appreciation was the most he ever aspired to.

"_We_ did a good job, my dear guardian." Varia'del sent him another cheerful smile and swirled back to her feet. Her fingers slid along his tail before she walked away, turning to Thamas the mage who just appeared in the arc of the entrance to the tavern. Valen followed her with his eyes, a smile on his lips only fading a little when she threw her arms around drow's neck.

And to think he thought her weak… In few days they cleared the entire lair of beholders, supporters of Valsharess' domination in the Underdark, leaving no beast to threaten Rebel's last stand point. Valen, despite years of battles in the Blood Wars, and even harder struggle for a way to Material Plane, would never manage to accomplish it by himself, but with Varia'del and divine emissaries coming to her aid at her every call, the heavenly radiance lighting the darkness of the deepest caves and destroying their foes, and when her prayers were of no use, her skilful hand wielding an enchanted hammer, Horacust… With growing surprise Valen realized that nothing in the Underdark could stand up to their joined forces. The beholders with their Hive Mother and illithids with their Great Mind certainly couldn't.

And then, after the dust of the battle would fall and the view would clear, Varia'del would smile looking at the carnage, like if she just stained her dress with wine, and she'd throw a pointless joke, like "behold that!", or "don't mind if you need to think some more about it", that Valen would normally comment with an shamed sight, but in this particular moment couldn't help but smile at.

By her side, everything was a game, everything was fun, and they were free, like if whether they won or lose didn't hold any greater significance. Valen, who always fought torn between demonic and human side of his personality, couldn't help but find this attitude refreshing.

But though it didn't seem to matter that much for the half-elf, she was bringing the Seer new artifacts she acquired, defeated her enemies and protected her, like he never could. Valen could only wonder how she could do so much so easily.

Deekin run inside the inn, instantly heading towards the greatest crowd by the bar, rightfully suspecting that his boss would be there. Varia'del kissed his scaled 'nose' for a greeting, winning few cold glances for her kobold friend from some of the drow gathered around her. Yes, the scaled singer also did well, though this declaration came from Valen a bit more reluctantly. He would never admit it aloud, but lizard bard's songs truly had to have some magic in them, and even if not, the kobold used his spells and the crossbow, mortally dangerous for a toy, efficiently enough to protect him and give aid should the situation become difficult. Valen and Nathyrra had nothing to complain about anymore, now that they saw the pair in action. In fact they were hardly pushed to keep pace. No one from the rebels made them strain their talents that much so far.

The tiefling weaponmaster finished his ale and got from the chair, planning to head for the temple. He had to rest before their next adventure, this time on one of the Islands on the river shielding side of Lyth Myatar. He didn't doubt that it would be just as rewarding as the last one.

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"You shouldn't have come so near" Varia'del muttered from under his arm.

Valen grunted stumbling on a stone and leaned more heavily on her.

"How would I hit it without getting near?" he growled through clenched teeth, trying to sound rational despite the pain.

"You could have waited until we took care of its shields" Nathyrra murmured from under his other arm, panting despite the spell adding to her strength.

"Demi-lich is not an ogre you can hack until it dies" Varia'del added her reproach to his severe ache.

"I'll try to remember it for the next time" tiefling uttered with anger. He'd gladly argue some more, but third-level burns covering his shoulders along with molten metal of his armor effectively reduced the number of sharp retorts he could think of, even despite the number of spells Varia used already to ease the pain.

"Here we go!" Both women wheezed trying to lift his weight on the stairs of the back entrance of the temple where the Seer most likely awaited them, forewarned by her goddess of their arrival. Most likely.

"The Goatman has to lose some weight!" Deekin observed stoically, trotting behind them without any load.

"I'm not fat" Valen growled forbiddingly. "I just have big muscles."

"Yeah, right. And I'm not a drow, I'm just well tanned" Nathyrra dared to comment, climbing the last step. Valen sent her a glare. Since when did the assassin become so extravert?

The last few steps were the hardest, but the stairs fortunately ended quickly and the self-supporting trio stumbled through the doors of the temple. Nathyrra and Varia gladly passed their grumbling burden into the capable hands of Eilistraee's acolytes, encouraged by Seer's welcoming smile.

"That was one hell of a tiring trip" Varia sighed deeply. "But constructive one too."

"These are burns not from natural fire. What happened?" The Seer gently asked turning to tired women, already beginning to tend to her weapon master's wounds.

"Well, it started with Valen proposing to visit one of the islands on this poisonous river of yours, called the Island of the Maker…" she went on with the story, altering it only a little, tiny bit.

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"Why won't you heal your scars?" Varia asked accompanying him to his room after his wounds were finally healed.

"What?" he inquired eloquently.

"I saw what you have under your shirt" she admitted without any sign of uneasiness. "They look horrible and must hinder your movements quite a lot. I could take care of them for you, just give me a minute to take my healing pack."

"No, it's unnecessary" he grumbled, turning away, gullibly thinking that it would be enough to end the conversation.

"What, you think you look more handsome this way?" She cocked her head, scanning his bandaged shoulders again. "Well I admit that they do have their charm, but more is not always better. And all the drow girls love you already. You don't have to try so hard now."

"Can you think about something else than that at least for one minute?!" The anger took the better of Valen. "These are not some sort of trophies, these are scars from the Blood Wars, from the time I was but a mindless animal, lead by the scent of carnage. I was a beast until the Seer found me and I should never forget about that!"

"But these are not only from this Blood Wars you mention all the time" she lifted her finger as if lecturing a disobedient child, not even as much as blinking in reaction to his outburst. "The one on your shoulders is from a demi-lich, for example. Can't you just pick your favorite one and remove the rest?"

"You want me to pick my favorite scar?" he asked incredulous.

"And instead you want to keep all of them?" she asked in return.

"Yes."

"That's pretty dumb." She shook her long brown mane and jumped few steps. Then she brushed off the rebellious strands of her hair that fell on her face and looked at him again.

"I was fighting for the most of my life and I didn't even remember most of it, so battle-raged I was. These scars are to remind me what I went through to become what I am. I doubt a woman like you would understand it." The weaponmaster grumbled as disrespectfully as he possibly could.

"Now you'd had it!" A spark of irritation mixed with anger shone in brown eyes.

Bright like little diamonds, stars appeared before Valen's eyes, when a spell hit him.

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He woke up twelve hours later, with his head feeling like it was filled with fluffy pieces of wool. Very sharp wool, he realized lifting his head, pierced quite deeply into his skull. Looking around he recognized that he was in his chamber in the temple of Lith My'athar, lying on his bed covered carefully by a blanket, and that he had no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembered was…

Varia! He quickly glanced at his chest grasping with astonishment that all his scars were gone. The fresh one on his shoulders after a burn… his hand touched only plain skin. The deep mark left by the sword of one back-stabbing devil… gone. Not even one small scratch remained on his body.

'This time she overdid it' he thought putting on his shirt, feeling demonic anger waking inside him. And then he realized something. Not all of his scars were on decent parts of his body, some were… where his back lost its noble name. And they were gone too.

'This time she really overdid it!'

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"Varia! I know you're in there! Open the door!" he banged his giant fist at the closed doors to her room.

"…go away…" just a quiet whisper answered him, barely audible through the thick metal door.

"Open the door I say! I won't let you get away with it! You can't just stun people and make them your toys!!! Either you open this damn door or I'm going to OPEN IT FOR YOU!!!" he lifted his fist to hammer the door again and suddenly realized how freely his arm moves. Something was misplaced, a twitch he always felt when raising his arm like that, but now that the deep scar, one of the deepest he had, was removed, the twitch was gone. His hand stopped before it touched the door.

In the same moment Varia opened it, her angry glare stopping at his raised fist.

"I see" she uttered coldly. "You are feeling better. That's good." Anger was bubbling in her under the cold surface like a volcano ready to erupt. And Valen could see why she was so angry. She wasn't beautiful, he thought for the first time when looking at her. Her hair was a mess, she probably came straight from her bed, still in her warm nightgown, her eyes were red and swollen, with dark begs underneath and she looked completely worn and furious because of it. But not beautiful.

"I… I…" he stuttered helplessly. He faced demons, drow matrons and black dragons without faltering, but that was a different type of courage. Now he felt a sudden urge to turn back and run as fast as his legs could carry him. All his determined anger suddenly decided to desert seeing how exhausted she was after healing him.

Varia deliberately gave him a second to run. And then she exploded.

"Are you blind?! Did you have any idea how badly you were beaten up, have you no respect of your body?! It's not a weapon you moron, it needs more than just sharpening once in a while and if you're planning just to stand idly collecting funny looking scars the next demi-lich is going to fry you into unidentifiable crisp and I won't be there to stop it! You may be a self-centered masochist in your free time, but under my command you're going to take any healing I give and THANK FOR IT!!!"

"But…"

"I'm not finished, so shut up! Is this how you treat ladies in this Underdark of yours or are those manners from Sigil?! 'Into flames we leap', my foot! And who gets to heal the burns?! ME!!! But if this is what you want then FINE!!! No more good intentions, no more helping! You better start carrying extra potions, because I sure as hell am not going to run after you making sure you're not accidently bleeding to death, or checking if you ate your breakfast properly!!!"

The door slammed shut before Valen's face and if he stood only a step closer broken nose would be the first injury he'd have to tend to himself. He stood motionless for few moments before it even got to him that he never told her he was from Sigil.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Valen sighed when she passed him like if he was made of air, walking through the inn. News was traveling fast through Lith My'athar and after a week he was already widely known as the only man the gorgeous Varia'del disliked. Normally gossips would travel just as fast, giving thousands of unfathomable reasons for the sudden iciness the half-elf displayed towards her assigned protector, but after the second day the true cause was known all throughout the rebels' camp, to Valen's complete disbelief. It was almost impossible for the truth to be known so widely, so quickly, but the tiefling suspected who was the messenger. Deekin was sticking his reptilian tongue at him every time Varia wasn't near to see him. Other than that the scaled bard was mimicking his boss' manner, treating Valen like a noisy waste of space.

Nathyrra joined their side the second day, even after hearing his side of the story, only giving him one advice. "You shouldn't have yelled at her after she spent twelve hours patching up every scratch you had." The most obvious one, truly, so why didn't he thought about it himself?

It wasn't that bad, Valen tried to convince himself. Her initial threats proved to be empty and whenever he got wounded during their trip to second one of the islands on the poisonous river shielding Lyth Myatar, she was there to heal him quickly, effectively and… silently. At last she acted as he expected her to. A stern focused leader, she was communicating with him only through orders or informing him which watch was he assigned during the next rest. No more lousy jokes or loud conversations in the dangerous Underdark. It was quiet, finally, just like he wished.

By the fourth day he couldn't take any more silence. Somehow he couldn't concentrate on fighting, on anything, without the familiar noise in the background, even though his body felt healthier than ever. He was catching himself eavesdropping by her tent, just to hear her voice in this humorous note he was used to, waiting for a stray flirt to come his way, but all in vain. She wasn't joking or singing anymore. That would be Inappropriate.

By the fifth day he came to Varia's tent and apologized as humbly and politely as he managed for waking her up and yelling at her. He thanked her for removing the scars and did his best to sound convincing.

"I accept your apology" she said calmly and turned to continue arranging the bottles of potions in her pack. She didn't even smile.

And now that they were back in Lith My'athar, with a powerful artifact for the Seer, he was still like invisible to her. Valen was actually beginning to consider crawling to win Varia's favor back, he saw many drow males do it usually with positive result. But first there was one more alternative. He paid for his ale, painfully aware of the chilly glares he received from the barkeep, as well as from most other drow in the inn. He became the public enemy number one in quite a short time span, but he was close enough to it from the start, with the terrifying reputation he had as a tiefling.

"I… need your help" the terrifying tiefling stuttered.

"You sure do need Deekin's help, Goatman" the kobold crossed his short scaly arms on his small chest, lifting up his scaled chin, even though looking down on Valen was nearly impossible without a ladder. "But why should Deekin help you?"

"I really need to find some way to make her talk to me again. Please" Valen forced the magic word out. A curious reptilian eye turned to him, probing how serious he was.

"Alright, Deekin will help!" the bard exclaimed happily. If only Varia could be so easy to convince…

"Tell me what to do. Should I wait for it to pass, or do something? Should I apologize again?" Valen asked, extremely aware how ridiculous this situation was. But somehow all the logical arguments his mind was inventing were losing their meaning, when countered with another silent day.

"It will not pass" Deekin shook his enormously big head. "Boss angry very long. Once Xanos spilled spell components all over Boss' favorite white dress. Dress ruined and boss very very angry. Boss doesn't speak to Xanos even now and it was three years ago. Xanos tries to apologize many times, but Boss still angry. When they went on adventure Boss didn't take Xanos, Boss only took Dorna and Deekin."

"Three years…?" Valen gulped. "Then what do I do?"

"Goatman has to apologize properly" the kobold articulated slowly, making Valen doubt his own intelligence even more than when he began to consider asking the bard for help.

"But I already apologized and she said she accepted."

"Boss lied. Deekin says apologize _properly_" the bard repeated even slower, accenting the last word. "When Goatman apologize like that Boss will talk to Goatman again and will forgive."

"Then what do I need to do?" Valen gave up trying to understand Deekin, hoping understanding wasn't obligatory. He was a soldier after all, and that made him trained well enough in executing orders without pondering on their meaning.

"First Goatman needs flowers. Then Goatman needs chocolate." Deekin nodded like a sage, who was giving up a secret of eternal life.

"What are these?" Valen only asked confused.

"Goatman doesn't know? Flowers are things that grow on the ground and have pretty colors like pink or red or blue or orange. Red is Boss' favorite."

"So it's like fungi?" Valen risked a guess.

"No, no, no. If Goatman gives Boss fungus Boss even angrier. Flowers are prettier than fungi, but Deekin thinks it only grows on the Surface."

"Then what about this chocolate?" the tiefling tried not to sound desperate.

"Boss likes sweets very much. You do have sweets in Underdark?"

Valen shook his head with resignation.

"We have rothe meat and milk, fish and fungi."

"Then Deekin is afraid Goatman is screwed." The kobold shrugged his small shoulders and trotted off.

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A gentle knocking at the door drew her attention away from the book she was reading. The plot was beginning to thicken by now, but the general idea of the book was unclear to her. Most of the drow tales were confusing, truth to be told. How could they spoil every good romance story like that? Whips and love confessions simply didn't go well together, and the fact that at least one of the lovers had to betray the other in the end didn't help to improve her opinions about the novels.

"Come in" she asked, putting the book away with sigh. She'd have to work some on the inspirations the writers had here in the Underdark. But this could wait.

Valen stepped through the door, trying to walk possibly quietly. He was without this armor, steeled boots, large gauntlets, he even left behind his flail. She crossed her arms on her chest, wondering what he could possibly want. As much as he expressed it from the very beginning the further away from her he could be, the happier he was.

"What is it Valen?" she asked, watching him calmly. He was keeping his hand behind his back, as if trying to hide something from her sight.

"I was…" the tiefling turned his eyes of the color of light blue, looking at her intensely with some measure of anxiety she couldn't guess the cause of. "I wanted to apologize again and… give you this."

He outstretched his so far hidden hand and in the light of the candle she used to read her books Varia saw a single violet, the flower appearing even smaller in weapon master's great hand, but its delicate petals not crumbled, held with utmost care.

"I know it's not much" Valen tried to defend his violet. "But there aren't any flowers in the Underdark. With Nathyrra we only managed to find some seeds brought from the surface for spell components and only one bloomed, even though I asked the Seer for a bit of her magic…"

"It's lovely" Varia'del took the gentle violet in her both palms, brushing Valen's fingers. "I will treasure it" she watched the flower enjoying the beauty of her home world, so far beneath its surface. She lifted her light brown eyes to look at Valen, and saw him smile at her shyly and thankfully. His eyes were deep as ever and something clenched the heart in her chest.

"I will not disturb you now, my lady, if you wish to rest" Valen woke up first from this strange moment. He turned in attempt to leave, but had a hard time trying to peel his eyes of her.

"Valen!" she stopped him by the door. "I… thank you" she smiled, feeling a fleeting blush on her skin.

The tiefling smiled broadly and closed the door, as silently as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning. This chapter contains mature content.

The inn was almost empty now, but she wasn't ready to leave yet. She couldn't leave until she'd forget and the effects of alcohol were beginning to wear off already without achieving the desired effect. Varia began to think that drinking that much wasn't a good idea after all. Halfway through the third drink she already knew that it wasn't making her forget a thing.

The intense light blue gaze – the beat of her heart sped up at the memory of it even now, in her intoxicated state. His face once again appeared before her eyes, the violet flower in his hand and this strange mawkish feeling he made her feel…

"Gggo, awway!" she muttered to her glass.

Drinking wasn't helping, but there was one more way to forget, a tried method. She looked around the mostly empty inn. Usually when the city would hear she was in here, it would be crowded to the common room's limits, but today she just strolled to the bar and whispered to the barkeep that she's more than tired and needed some peace and quiet over few drinks. Half an hour later the inn was completely deserted and now only random patrons came to buy their drinks to ease their guard duty. Watching the few drow present Varia picked the most handsome – a tall thin dark elf, wearing an uniform of the Seer's guard, identifying him as a follower of Eilistraee, and walked up to him, swaying her hips a bit too much.

"Good day to you" she smiled idly, leaning on the counter, letting her long brown waves fall on the wood and move on her shoulders. She spoke slowly to accent that she drunk enough to make her tipsy, but not enough to stop her from walking straight, though the latter was beginning to pose a problem. She knew how to appear tempting, even despite the drinks she poured into herself.

"Good day" the drow's red eyes smiled at her. He was an idealist, Varia judged. Young for dark elves' standards, though probably few times older than her, and not tainted with the ways of Lloth, making him believe, deep in his heart, that there was a chance for salvation for every drow. Or maybe an avenger, ready to die for a cause he believed in? His muscles were well shaped under his armor, he must have known how to use the longsword he kept by his belt, but wasn't nearly as athletic as Valen, strong like a giant, yet gentle, able to hold a violet without crushing it…

Varia blinked, trying to focus on the man before her.

"I'm sorry if I don't seem well-mannered" she continued. "Everybody seems to treat me here as some sort of outer-worldly creature, which came to rescue everybody. Sometimes I'd like to just talk with someone, freely, without pressure."

"I understand. I'm Helos, by the way" the drow smiled at her again holding out his hand. So he heard about some of the surfacer's customs…

"Nice to meet you" she sent him smile number four, shaking his hand very gently. "Call me Varia. Say, Helos, would you mind walking me to my room?" she asked, tilting her head lightly. "I think I had enough to drink already."

"I'd be glad to" the soldier stood up and offered her a hand. 'Not so innocent…' she thought, letting him circle his arm around her waist and leaning on him. She put her head on his shoulder and whispered his pointy ear to lead her to a room upstairs. The drinks were making her dizzy…

"Attention!" The drow's spine instinctively straightened when he heard the voice of the main commanding officer and the drill commander, just by his ear. He tried to hide Varia before him.

"What are you doing, soldier?" Valen asked with the trained voice of a leader of troops, stepping before the immobile drow close enough for him to have to crane his neck to look at him.

"I-I've just been leading Varia, I mean Lady Varia'del, to her room, sir!" the drow stuttered. Varia picked the time to lift her head from his shoulder and look at Valen.

"You again?" she muttered, barely audible. Her head went down again. The tiefling weapon master sighed and rubbed the muscled nape of his neck realizing what the problem was. Then his expression turned back to the steel-sharp anger of a commander.

"You were supposed to be on the guard duty by the entrance to the temple now, corporal Helos. Report to your post immediately!" Valen called forth the demon's rage to add to the threat in his voice and sent the soldier away, purposefully lowering his rank. It was the oldest trick in the book and Helos knew it as well, because he didn't even try to correct Valen's 'mistake'. The tiefling didn't doubt that if he'd sent him to a guard post by the gates to the Ninth Hell, Helos would run there quite eagerly.

The drow looked at his superior as if he was about to collapse on the spot and then hastily began to detangle himself from the half-elf's embrace, the tiefling holding her up so she wouldn't fall. Valen looked at the priestess, assessing her ability to walk by herself and then carefully placed her on his shoulder, to carry her to the room she occupied in the temple.

----------

"Sharess, have pity on thy humble servant, who bears her burdens faithfully… Thank you" the half-elf uttered a spell from under her covers, trying to fight the hangover at least enough to be able to focus on two people visiting her abode in the hour that passed for morning in the Underdark. She silently thanked her goddess for the lack of sun in the infinite cave.

"You really shouldn't let your guard down so much" Valen sighed, taking a sit at the one of the chairs in the room. Some hidden part of the guilt he still felt for shouting at her, kindly pointed out to him that even after a nightly libation she looked far better than after tending to him. "Hanging on a drow, even a follower of Eilistraee, like that can lead to no good. You should consider more who you seduce."

"Pfeh, tell me about it." Varia's lips curled in the expression of her highest displeasure. "He didn't even send me a gift today."

"And why would he…?" Nathyrra's eyebrows raised.

"Isn't that a tradition? If I really wanted to bed him I sincerely doubt I failed. A drow man would go with a half-orc to bed, as long as she'd have pale skin. I don't mean this as an offense Nathyrra, but I suspect that this situation would end quite drastically if you drow girls started to use less of whips and more of your lips." Varia was clearly recovering fast. "And Valen… I don't see how my bed would be of any interest to you… unless you are trying to visit it yourself?"

'Bull's-eye' Nathyrra thought.

"Well, not in this life time, dear." Varia continued smoothly.

"I… Why not?" Valen surprised all of the gathered, including himself, actually asking.

"I-I didn't mean it personally" Varia lost all of her eloquence instantly. "I didn't mean to hurt your pride. I can flirt left and right, but I'm a leader and I would never go out with a team member, it's only trouble." She lied quickly, but logically enough.

"But afterwards, when it's all over?" Valen didn't seem to give up.

"Well… I… er, I…" She didn't know how to answer that one. Something was telling her that Valen wasn't speaking about simple satisfying lust. "We'll see then" she got out of it diplomatically.

----------

"Say something, please. Please. Please…" he heard by his ear.

"I…" he mumbled incoherently.

"Oh, thank goddess." He felt something warm on his chest and something wet on his face. After a moment he realized that what he was hearing was the sound of someone crying, a female, a half-elf, Varia… He moved his numb hand and placed it on her head, touching her thick brown hair, tangled after being released from the protection of a helmet. He stiffly stroked it, but the sound of crying only intensified. He moved his head to look what was lying beside him. A great skull of a dragon.

The dracolich was dead.

They killed it with their united effort. The last of the Valsharess' allies fell, slain by them, along with its plans to build an army of undead in the Underdark. The final of his attacks, a cloud of negative energy it breathed like fire at them, Valen took on himself, shielding the spellcasters, Deekin and Nathyrra. He didn't remember what happened next.

"Varia'del, Varia!" Valen heard Nathyrra's urging. The burden on his chest disappeared and a gentle hand wiped the tears that fell on his face. He saw Varia surrounded with an unearthly light and he wondered if he was dying to be gifted with such a sight.

"My goddess Sharess, I pray to you for healing in the hour of need… I pray with all my heart…" he heard the melodies of magic. Comfortable warmth of cleansing spells began to clear the effects of negative energies of the dracolich. Through the warmth he thought that it could be the Heaven.

----------

"I… I've been in such a situation twice before" Varia sniffed to her cup, sitting on the stairs leading to the high altar, inside the temple of Eilistraee. Nathyrra nodded considerately, waiting for her to continue. The half-elf didn't even take a sip of the wine yet, but it seemed that the smell alone was enough for the exhausted priestess. Her eyes were still red and her hands were still shaking, but other than that the situation was under control. Valen was already safe in his room, healed completely even before he reached the temple, and now the only thing left to repair were Varia's strained nerves.

"A handsome, popular man, who previously didn't as much as glance with sympathy at me, all of sudden does everything to get in my sheets." Varia sniffed again. "Usually I'd go to his room after dusk, lock the door and give him a night he would never forget. By the dawn I'd disappear, leaving good memories and uncertainty if it was dream or reality. And I wouldn't be bothered again. But only thinking about sleeping with Valen… My hands sweat again." She said it as if she only realized it, and rose from her sit, leaving her wine forgotten, to wash her hands in a nearby bowl. Nathyrra considered should she tell her that she's washing her hands in Seer's sacred water in a ceremonial pool, but decided against it.

"Come, I'll lead you to your room" the drow assassin offered. She had her suspicions about why the half-elf's hands were sweating all of sudden, but it wasn't the time to clear them. They were all exhausted after the battles with undead and Valsharess' troops could reach Lith My'athar sooner that they'd wish. They needed to be rested and prepared.

"No, I'll go check on Valen one last time." The shaken priestess smiled tearfully and sniffed loudly one last time, before leaving Nathyrra's in the foyer of the temple.

----------

The knocking was so quiet he thought he imagined it, but then she entered stepping on the thick carpet with her bare feet, her metal incrusted boots in her hand. She smiled wobbly seeing he was awake, probably unaware how much a mess she was. He wasn't planning to tell her though.

"It's good to see you looking better" she whispered, her voice barely strong enough for him to hear. Maybe he didn't want to startle him, or perhaps she was too tired to speak louder? He rose to sit on his bed and panic immediately appeared in her eyes.

"No, don't strain yourself, you're still weak!" she ran to him, dropping her heavy shoes and placing her both palms on his shoulders.

He gazed at her with serene expression on his face, seeing her so worried, so caring. He wasn't weak anymore thanks to her healing and he wanted to thank her, but more than that he wanted to hold her.

"V-valen?" she stammered when he took her in his strong embrace, pressing her to his chest. She tried to step away, but he wasn't going to let her go that easily, now that he had her on his embrace at last. "What are you doing?" she asked fearfully when he began to stroke her back gently, his lips placing soft kisses on her neck. He felt her body shivering like a leaf in his grasp and did everything to calm those shivers, caressing, stroking, kissing… When she finally yielded to his touch he placed her on his bed and reached under her clothes…

"Valen, we shouldn't do this..." he heard in her voice a weak commanding note, but where her lips denied him he felt her body wanted it just as his, he felt it clearly. "Valen…" she whispered his name again, and he saw two lines tears made on her face, but this time she didn't try to stop him, when he slowly began to take off her clothes. As she trembled again, again he kissed those shivers away. She placed her palms on his chest, but there was no strength in her denial. Her hands trembled unable to embrace him, unwilling to push him away.

She gasped when they became one.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

She needed to run. Valsharess just contacted her, offering her an alliance and she agreed, taking some worthless cloak the drow priestess gave her as a reward. She'd do anything just be let out of this place, as far away from it as possible. Deekin was sleeping in her room, but she managed not to wake him when she quickly collected her few belongings, donned her armor and run away from the temple as if the devils of hell themselves chased after her. She quickly cast a spell of domination at Helos, guarding the main gates of Lyth Myatar and sent him off to the other end of the rebel's camp. Then she took the bottle of alchemist's fire, a highly explosive liquid, bursting into fire at the contact with air, and threw it at the gates. The last obstacle Valsharess' troops would have to cross on their way to the temple of the Seer, burst into pieces of stone and adamantine.

Her betrayal was complete. Hopefully the geas would kill her.

She run through the gates, not even considering whether Valsharess' troops were on the other side or not, stepping through the blazing inferno of the alchemist fire uncaring for the burns. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

----------

The siege of Lith My'athar that came afterwards, lasted two weeks. With their main gates shattered the rebels had to stand guard every hour of the timeless Underdark, sustaining a magical barrier set by Nathyrra aided by few mages among the followers of Eilistraee, ready to fight against the unending waves of duergar's army. No other monstrous allies of the Lloth priestess' attacked them fortunately, all defeated by Varia and her party, but the name of the half-elf wasn't uttered with respect in the city. No one was sure what exactly happened and the Seer did nothing to clear the confusion, the drow priestess rarely leaving the temple where the wounded were treated. There wasn't much time to find out either, with the time of every rebel split between long fights by the gates and short moments of respite they needed to heal their wounds and gather some strength to stand watch again.

After the second week, when the Seer signaled that they suffered the last attack for now and they were safe from Valsharess, at least for the time being, came the time for burying the dead and assessing the losses. Over a half of the Eilistraee's followers perished in the fight, along with most of the soldiers of the Houses allied with them. It was the end of the rebel, and the next attack was to be the last one.

Deekin cried. Whether he cried because his boss betrayed them, or because she left him behind, was unknown, but no one cared too much. With the losses they suffered they couldn't spare any soldier, even if it was a crying kobold. Nathyrra soon returned to her dark ways, avoiding other's company and hiding in the shadows no matter if she was surrounded by allies or among the foes. This time even the Seer couldn't let a light into her soul.

And Valen fought. As day and night changed on the surface he stood on guard, fending off the duergar and the drow who'd like to cross the gates of Lith My'athar, fighting with demonic fury, losing all of himself in the battle. But no matter how long he struggled, Death always withheld the blade if aimed at him and he lived. He lived through the first and the last of the attacks, without a wound more serious than a scratch, as if some invisible shield was always guarding him as he charged blindly into the greatest mass of foes.

Two weeks passed and the attacks ended, just when they were about to be crushed. With the scythe of Death looming over their heads they waited in the ruined camp for the last assault to come. Waited a month, and then a second…

And then they departed to look for Death, so shamelessly late.

----------

The great citadel of Valsharess, the seat of her power and the gathering place of her troops was a ruin, forgotten by the mortals and the Spider Queen. There were few signs of resistance the residents of the fortress posed to their mysterious attacker, some ashes on the walls, from a stray lightning spell perhaps? But the construction looked as if it was abandoned long time ago and simply left to be claimed by the poisonous fauna of the Underdark. When the rebels passed the first lines of unclaimed defenses it appeared more as if they stumbled upon an ancient ruin, rather than a newly built bastion, the headquarters of Valsharess' army.

Valen entered the fortress first, with his giant flail in his hand, followed by Nathyrra hidden in the shadows and Deekin trotting obediently behind them. What was left of Seer's troops was awaiting them by the entrance to the citadel, guarding the priestess of Eilistraee, ready to either retreat or aid the reconnaissance team. The soldiers who still cared were edgy, glancing on the eerie quiet cave, where the giant construction stood. Most however lived long enough in this strain not to care what was meant to happen or already took place in the forsaken citadel.

The first few floors were empty, except from some spiders that already began to move in, without any traps or bodies, without any hint of what happened. They scanned the first few chambers thoroughly, but then moved higher, deciding that the more careful exploring could be left for a time when they'd know what actually happened. Going up the circular staircase they discovered some bodies, burnt to the smoldering bones, now just skeletons turning to ash at the lightest touch. Nothing indicated who the victims of the fire were, but there were no further signs of a wildfire. Whatever killed them had to be of magical nature.

The last door led to a highest chamber, located on the pinnacle of the citadel, a room where Valsharess supposedly resided before the structure was abandoned. The metal door leading inside was locked and trapped, and gave Nathyrra some trouble before she was able to open it. Anything behind that door had to be unmoved from the time of the catastrophe without any of the nature's bites present on the lower stores, without the cobwebs, or the spiders.

Valen opened the door carefully, pushing the stone surface with the end of his flail. He needed to be prepared for everything, he needed to be alert and ready, in case an enemy was hiding behind this last door. The small gate creaked and opened…

The chamber was empty, ruined, with only corpses lying abandoned in the corners, everything as silent and dead as the rest of the fortress. In the ceiling there was a giant size hole, like that a dragon could make, taking off from the ground. 'Or a devil…' Valen realized, like the one that stood behind Valsharess' power, according to the gossips. But whatever monster was the cause of deserting the keep it was long since gone, two months at least. And all it left behind was dust and bodies, two of them not burned as much as the rest.

One had to be Valsharess, identified easily by the insignia of a powerful Matron Mother that had somehow survived the trial of battle. The other body wasn't burned at all, only old, with dried skin stretched on the weeks-old bones, faded brown hair spread on the stone, covered with dust like a cobweb forgotten by a spider and pieces of broken armor littering around it, a symbol on the skeleton's chest armor utterly destroyed. In its bony fingers something was closed, but Valen realized what it was only after he knelt by the corpse. It was a single dried violet.

----------

Almost two hours the Seer had to wait for the return of her scouting team. Then they finally appeared in the main gates of the citadel, huge grim gate with thousands of spiders made of metal encrusted on its boarders, joining together in a magnificent and terrifying arc, looming over the heads of the rebels. Those three heroes saved them during the siege, their courage and talents, but also their desperation, protecting the entire rebel from the sea of duergar and drow army Valsharess sent against them. Now they were returning from their exploration, walking through the terrifying gate.

Valen was carrying something - something like a body? – clad in his cloak, handling it gently as if it was about to fall to pieces. Nathyrra approached the priestess first however and with rising surprise the Seer saw tears in drow assassin's eyes.

"Valsharess is dead" the crying Nathyrra told her quietly. "Valsharess is dead!" the first lines of soldiers repeated it instantly, sending the wave of triumph further through the small and battered army. Those who cared still, sent their cries of victory up to the ceiling of their world. Those who didn't, began. It was a miracle. Valsharess was dead!

Valen placed his load on the ground and with trembling fingers he unfolded the selvages of the cloak. Inside the Seer saw a dried skeleton of a half-elven woman, with long brown hair, now tattered and dark. Valen looked at the old corpse with both tenderness and unspeakable pain.

"Boss killed Valsharess" Deekin croaked, big kobold tears dropping from his chin. "But then a demon had escaped and it killed boss."

"Just throw the corpse to the river" Nathyrra stuttered through the tears. "The bitch doesn't deserve anything better." She obviously tried to sound hateful, but couldn't. She trusted. She trusted someone completely for the first time since the Seer showed her the silver light of Eilistraee, maybe for the first time in her life. Everybody could betray her, everybody had some hidden motives, secrets, agendas, but not this carefree half-elf from the bright world of the surface! Or so Nathyrra thought… For the first time she felt the taste of friendship and she liked it. Talking freely about men, about jewelry, dresses, joking, teasing, like if she was but a free person, not a former Red Sister, someone who betrayed the memory of her own family by joining the group of their killers, someone who tried to assassinate the Seer. To Varia the word 'evil' didn't seem to exist. But in the end it was just an act, wasn't it? An act to buy their trust. Nathyrra never felt as alone as after Varia'del's betrayal. And this loneliness only made her angrier.

"She never meant to deceive us Nathyrra" Valen calmly stated, with the calmness the drow assassin couldn't understand. The warrior almost appeared as if he was expecting that, as all of it – the citadel, the slaughter of Valsharess' forces, Varia…, as if he knew from the beginning that it would end like that.

"Maybe it was some cunning plan that made us serve the purpose of bait to get close to Valsharess, but for me is still a treachery!" the drow answered furious, at him – for sounding so calm, and at herself, for being unable to stop the bitter tears.

"No, she wasn't planning anything. That night she was just trying to escape the city." Valen took a deep breath, finally ready to speak out loud.

"Why?" the Seer asked the question Nathyrra wasn't brave enough anymore to utter.

"Because I hurt her that night. She came to my room to check up on me and I didn't let her leave it… I… I forced…"

"No, stop! What are you saying Valen?!" Nathyrra interrupted before he could finish, hysterically loud. "You mean that you…? You mean that she was only trying to run, because you hurt her?"

Valen nodded calmly. Since that day he wasn't aware that his human part could hold demons inside far worse than simple bloodlust demon made him feel. And that made him realize that perhaps there was nothing good in him from the very beginning, that the humanity he strived to attain so much could be just as foul as any of the hells, if tainted by demon's blood.

"Why…? Why did you do that to her?!" Nathyrra asked, shaking with fury.

"Because I thought that was what she wanted." He said the last truth, the last nail to pin him coffin. He didn't try to dodge when Nathyrra's dagger plunged into his chest.

"Why?" he asked when the blade stopped an inch before his heart.

"You don't deserve to die that easily, male filth" the Red Sister spit.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

By the end of the day a great ballad in Varia'del's memory was composed and a ceremony of burial took place. With deep sadness in his croaking voice Deekin sung his elegy about a brave heroine, betrayed by a treacherous tiefling, a woman who gave her life to protect the rebellion and defeat the evil drow priestess. No one knew what happened in the citadel exactly, all they summarized was that Valsharess was killed by Varia's weapon, a hammer Horacust leaving a mark of electricity, and something freed the demon. Maybe the death of his mistress, or maybe some other power was present during the battle… No signs on Sharess' priestess body indicated what the cause of her death was, but Deekin's song wasn't about these unknown events. It was about the love he had for his dear boss, showing her how the kobold wanted others to remember her – a caring person always loyal to her friends, someone who shown him only kindness and could make even the grimiest of the rebels smile, someone who won a place in their hearts. Many tears appeared in many eyes when the elegy ended and the funeral pyre was lit by the Seer. But not a note from her friend's song reached where Varia'del went…

Valen stayed. He was the one who sent her to death, who hurt her so much that she saw no other option but to run. Everybody knew he was the one who betrayed her, though Deekin's song barely mentioned a traitor bringing harm to his boss. But he stayed nonetheless. For the first time he felt completely emptied of his demonic fury with no one to direct his anger at, with no anger at all. He stayed to protect the Seer, as always, as well as the rebels, from the devil who had to be somewhere in the material plane still. They needed his protection, even though their obvious and deserved hate towards him, with Lith My'athar in ruins, the rebellion without a safe hideout. The Seer needed him, even though she wouldn't see a human in him again. He couldn't see a human in himself.

"You weren't on the funeral Valen." The great priestess of Eilistraee found him finally, in a hidden alcove that served him as a shelter, placed close enough to the place where the last of the rebels made their camp.

"I listened to the elegy, Seer" he answered, naming her with her proper title, as always, this time using it as a wall to separate himself from her, from the world he didn't belong to.

"Didn't you want to tell her your final farewell?" the old drow asked gently, the way she always spoke to him, to other of the faithful.

"It would be worse than a slight if her killer would be present on her funeral." He lowered his head. It was meant to be different…

"Wasn't all you did because of love?"

"Love?" he repeated unbelieving. The Seer said that word so simply, as if she didn't condemn him, but he knew he deserved a condemnation. He _saw_ he deserved condemnation. "It wasn't love that made me hurt her then, Seer."

"I can see your torment Valen. How much you struggle to accept what happened and your true wish to atone for your actions. But your pain won't bring any peace to her soul."

"I saw her Seer, I saw her in my dream…" he whispered, his eyes downward, when he recalled the last night's vision.

Nothing could bring peace to her soul.

----------

Snow was covering everything in sight, snow _was_ everything in sight, and more of it still was falling with sharp gusts of arctic wind down on those unfortunate enough to be in this icy grave, in Cania, the hell of traitors. Valen knew the place only from the tales he heard as a child on the streets of the Cage, and faced few demons originating from there, but no tale could express the sight of Cania fully.

It was a tomb. A place where you come only to die, because nothing, not even devils could possibly survive in the freezing cold forever, to Valen surviving even a day seemed impossible. No cloak was thick enough to save at least a tiniest ounce of warmth in this piercing chill that made a mortal soul tremble even at the sight of it. And there was nowhere to hide on this white wasteland, no shelter to cover from the wind stealing the lives of those who wandered there accidentally. It was a Hell of Traitors, an eternal winter for those who betrayed given trust.

There, among the blizzard of snowflakes sharp as steel, was Varia'del, trying to find some warmth, hidden behind a snowdrift. Her palms were white and porcelain like the ices of Cania, though hidden in thick gloves of a battle priestess. On her face Valen saw frozen diamonds of tears…

The half-elf stood up awkwardly, limping visibly, probably realizing that she wasn't going to find any comfort in the poor shelter a low snowdrift made. She began to hobble forward, leaving long track, the snow was immediately covering without leaving as much as a trace that anyone ever crossed there. Wherever she was heading soon she was to fall, her one leg already frozen to the bone, and the snow of this place would cover her in the eternal suffering of cold, the suffering of this hell.

----------

"…and then I woke up."

The Seer didn't answer, silently absorbing his words.

"Is it true, can it be true? Did I condemn her to hell?" he asked, painfully torn between the hope brought by denial, and fear of accepting the truth. The Seer only looked at him with sadness.

"I… cannot tell you if your vision was true, Valen. But if it was true image, sent to you by gods, what do you plan on doing?"

"I… I always doubted your visions, Seer, and I never truly stopped. The concept of gods or other powers manipulating us mortals, scheming to gain more influence never appealed to me as anything positive. I was too stubborn to share your belief I Eilistraee. But now I think I know how you feel. I can't decide whether the vision was true or just some crazy dream, but… I can't leave her like that, I have to help her."

It took some time before the Seer spoke out again, deciding what she should tell her warrior, not to throttle his hopes, but give an advice that'd help.

"Do you know what the name of the archdevil ruling Cania is, Valen?" she asked after a moment of silence. She had her suspicions, but she'd have to turn to her goddess for a confirmation of what exactly happened in the citadel.

"It's Mephistopheles…" Valen's eyes widened suddenly. "He was said to be the devil under Valsharess' command! The gossips said that the drow matron imprisoned the archdevil himself, forcing him to aid her in conquering the Underdark. If the devil has freed himself, if he somehow remained in material plane… Then perhaps Varia wasn't judged by the gods and sent to Cania, but he sent her there in exchange for his own freedom. I… how could I be so foolish to think that I'd condemn her to Hells? It was my fault, not her sin, it couldn't possibly matter… We… I… I need to find Mephistopheles. He has to be sent back to Hells if she is to be free…" Valen paused, in the middle of his frantic train of thoughts.

"Seer" he turned to her, solemn and serious. "I ask you to release me from my duties. I need to find the devil until it's too late."

"Of course, my dear Valen. But I think you'll need companions on your journey." The Seer said, turning her eyes to one of the dark corners of his shelter.

Nathyrra sent him a scornful look, coming out of the shadows, Deekin covered by an illusion by her side.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"So it was love? But..." She paused as if considering the facts again, making sure she understood everything correctly. Her hands weren't shaking, she couldn't even feel them, so cold they were already after the long march, but she knew they would should they be able to. "But no such thing as Love exists." The most obvious fact of her life. "Love is the name people give to their desires, to their lusts, to their need of other person to support them. It's just a lie you tell yourself when a relationship doesn't go well because you don't fit or trust or need each other anymore. Then you say that it wasn't a true love... But there is no such thing as a true love. But you say that Valen is... was my True Love?"

"Yes."

"Then what I felt when he touched me, when he looked at me, this strange uncertainty… And when he was close it was never so intense, with no one else I felt it so directly… And it hurt so much when he was suffering, I thought I was going to die if he would… I-I thought it was a blasphemy, it was against my goddess will, because it wasn't passion… I know passion and it is completely different. So you say it was because of Love…"

"Yes" said the Knower of Names.

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They had to hold! Flames were bursting from the ground, turning the stone paves of streets of Waterdeep into a lake of liquid fire coming in their direction, but running away was not an option. The number of places where they could run away to was already close to zero and they didn't come here to run. Humanoid shapes rose from the blaze – the fire elementals, hotter and greater than any he had ever seen. A small army of those creatures began to smolder everything that survived the passage of lava. He'd have to attack those first. The temperature was rising and rising, already above the limits of what a human being could resist, but his demon blood would allow him to last a bit longer. If only there was a way to reach the elementals through the blaze…

Magic surrounded him in an incorporeal veil, sticking to his skin. "This should protect us all from most of this inferno" Nathyrra uttered despite the smoke getting to her lungs. She tried to cough it all out, preparing to cast more magic.

His battlecry got stuck in his throat. "Into flames…" he was used to shout before charging at the enemy and it was more than fitting in this situation. Only this time there was no one to heal the burns and the thought that struck him, a memory of a woman who did heal him made his courage waver for the first time, not because of the fear of pain, but out of fear of failure.

The Song of Doom filled the battlefield for a moment, a quick second and a half a reptilian voice managed to break through the crackling of the wildfire. Valen's hand grasped his flail firmer. He had to hold!

"For Varia'del!" this cry let him to charge at the fiery monsters without fear. The men, soldiers from this city didn't trust him, they couldn't even communicate either in drow he learned from the Seer, or in infernal he seemed to know always. But hearing this cry, the name of their hero, the fact that he was a tiefling, that he came to the city just before the attack, the suspicions that he could be an ally of the devil – it all stopped to matter. Under the banner made by her name, all of them united – he, Nathyrra, Deekin and the city of Waterdeep.

But the lake of lava and the elementals weren't the true danger, it wasn't an army of undead, those who walked out from the citadel of Valsharess, with new chains binding them into undeath, it all weren't the reasons why the city was soon to fall. It wasn't the reason why even in the heat of battle he kept throwing glances at the sky, trying to measure how much more time they had to finish the skirmish. The moment all of them both expected and feared was the one when…

Winged Mephistopheles, the archdevil of the Eighth of Nine Hells, came from the sky, dimming the entire area with his unholy aura. Higher than any demon he stood, throwing a dark shadow on the ones trying to oppose him, his weighty hooves making the earth tremble with every step he made towards them. When he was close enough to the battle-engaged militia, with Valen and Nathyrra among them, he aimed his great trident at them, sending forth the necromantic magic trapped within.

The knights in the service of the city of Splendor began to die and there was nothing Valen could do to stop it. He was strong enough to withstand the death contained in this weapon, but most did not have his endurance and they were falling one by one, until only he, Nathyrra and Deekin were left on the molten square in the middle of the burning metropolis. The devil looked at the three survivors and his mouth formed a most dark smile, that of a heartless monster. Mephistopheles laughed, already celebrating his victory, on the corpse of the city he claimed as his.

Valen felt Nathyrra by his side, rather than saw her, the assassin finally mastering the art of stealth allowing her to be visible only to her friends. She forgave him, maybe even understood him a little, after their travel through the Underdark, in chase of the dangerous devil, and now she wasn't going to desert him. Up to his left trotted Deekin, with his new crossbow looking as deadly and powerful as a weapon of such a talented bard should. The kobold flapped the red wings on his back, a gesture he often did when preparing to breath out dragon's fire. This time they wouldn't run. This time they had to hold!

"For Varia!" he charged first, as a warrior should. He'd take the brunt of the fight, distract the opponent and should it be needed, take the hits aimed at his friends. "For Varia!" Perhaps for the first time he heard Nathyrra raise her voice for a battlecry. "For Varia!" Deekin croaked his boss' name, sending a bolt dripping with acid, into devil's chest.

Mephistopheles looked at them, maybe amused by their courage, or maybe more surprised by it. The fact that the small piece of wood, Deekin's bolt, managed to pierce his skin, even slightly, sobered the devil enough to stop laughing. Or maybe he decided it was the right time to kill them. Who could guess the intentions of pure evil, truly?

Valen's flail clashed with the great trident almost belching with death and stopped it. Devil counterattacked with his unarmed left hand trying to tear tiefling's armor to pieces with its claws and the hit found its mark, but an unknown force stopped the sharp nails before they reached Valen, giving him the time to crush devilish wrist with one powerful swing. The growl of pain and fury that escaped devil's mouth didn't make Valen's hand tremble when he prepared for another swing, this time aiming at the monster's knee. He fought and parried and hit, in the storm of magic Nathyrra was invoking upon the devil, buying her time to cast more spells. He didn't stop when dark trident found his flesh once, twice, he didn't stop even standing in the pool of his own blood, pouring from the gaps in his armor. Only death would stop him now, he decided, preparing for the one more swing his arms would manage.

Mephistopheles made a gap in his defenses and the flail connected with his side, a crack of a broken rib sending an echo on the square. But the devil could allow himself to be hit still, despite the burns from the magic attacks, while Valen was barely able to stand… The shaft of the trident knocked him down, pounding him in the abdomen. The tiefling collided with a straight pole of a molten stone that remained of a house that once stood there. He tried to control his sluggish movements, gathering to his feet, seeing the devil was going in the direction of Nathyrra and Deekin, both of them too exhausted by the constant casting to escape, too proud to even try. He couldn't afford not to get before the fiend on time. With impossible difficulty he got to stand one last time, stand on the path of the archdevil himself, and raised his weapon in a defensive gesture.

"You'll have to kill me first" he snarled.

Mephistopheles smiled, accepting the offer. He raised his trident slowly, knowing that his prey wouldn't escape this time. The dark aura surrounding the square thickened when the devil gathered his strength. A white snowflake fell from the sky…

In the storm of white ice and crystal, a gate opened in space, a bit of a chill of a sphere that knew nothing by ice, finding its way to the First Material Plane. When the small blizzard calmed, just as suddenly as it began, Valen realized that she was standing before him, Varia'del, surrounded by the fallen snow that didn't melt in contact with archdevil's flames.

Frost was covering her skin like a net of smallest fibers, icicles hanging from the long brown waves of her hair, unrestrained by a helmet, her bare palms white as snow and smooth like porcelain. She didn't stand straight, bent on one side, like if trying to spare her left leg. He'd take her for a statue made of ice if not for the slight move of her chest, her breathing. In front of the archdevil she looked very small and frail, humbled before a master of hell.

"I see you liked it in Cania, Varia'del!" the devil erupted into laughter, most foul cackle, noticing the woman. "Three months in Cania and yet you live… though barely." He moved his hand to lift up her chin, just with the tip of his finger, his dark nail, the joyful smile not for a moment disappearing. Valen's heart clenched when he thought that the devil will break her to thousand pieces of ice, just with this small gesture.

"And how do you intend to stop me now? Poor thing, you can barely stand!" the fiend continued his mockery. "And I was just about to finish off the last bugs that stood on my way to take over this city. You can rest while watching, I'll be with you in a minute." Mephistopheles extended his arm over the half-elf to grab Valen. The tiefling didn't even look at the clawed hand moving in his direction. He only looked at her, at Varia…

"Thra'axfyl the Ambitious" she uttered with her beautiful voice disfigured by the horrible hoarseness. The smile on devil's lips froze and his hand stopped.

"M-my True Name…" he managed to stutter before Varia's order came.

"Die."

Fiend's eyes opened wide and his evil heart stopped. Slowly, like a mountain preparing for a travel, the prince of the Eighth Hell fell to his knees and then collapsed forward. Valen barely managed to grab Varia and move her out of the way. He lost consciousness, with the feeling of her freezing cold form buried in his arms being the last thing he remembered.

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Only when they woke him he released her. A human priestess, all in white, was kneeling over him, with gentle flow of blue healing magic passing from each of her fingers to his numerous wounds. He let go of Varia still closed in his embrace, passing her to capable hands of another healer, and half-consciously looked around.

They were resting in a ruined hole in the ground, burned out by the magic Nathyrra invoked to attack the devil and the fiend's fall. Magic sparkled in the place where only seconds ago Varia'del's skin, frozen by the ice of Cania, connected with his armor, heated by Mephistopheles' blazes. City militiamen where securing the area, seemingly running chaotically like ants in a disturbed ant-hill. Healers could be seen, each in different robes, with different holy symbols, like a circus of gods, but every working hard giving relief to the wounded and return to the dead.

From what he remembered he lost a lot of blood, and got wounded badly, he probably didn't have much more of life, but there was no pain and no cold. Valen turned back to Varia, lying at arm's length from him. Her porcelain white skin was smooth and probably freezing cold, her big brown eyes closed, turned to him, her lips almost blue, frozen without expression. A healer was already kneeling by her, pearls of sweat gathering on the brow of an elven woman in armor, but to Valen Varia didn't look wounded at all, undisturbed, peaceful, unmoving… He smiled at her and didn't care that this time she didn't reply with her usual joyful grin. She was near and they were together.

All was as it should be, even if only for a moment.

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After a week on the surface he slowly began to get used to the changes in illumination, and even managed to wake up every dawn, even despite the daily protests his eyes were submitting, used only to the darkness of the Underdark. His wounds were treated mostly and those few that didn't catch his healer's attention were healing fast enough on their own, without giving him much trouble. By the seventh day he was as fit as always.

A nice quarter was given to him, in one of the inns that survived the cataclysm wrought upon the city by the over-ambitious devil. Nathyrra and Deekin were living in the same building, their rooms just across the corridor, a comforting thought, given the fact that only they could communicate with the locals, Deekin easily, Nathyrra stuttering slightly in Common. Valen only learned few words so far, but most of the citizens recognized him already, once again his kobold friend showing a remarkable talent in spreading rumors.

The bard was waiting for him already by the door, Nathyrra still refusing to go out before the dusk, and the strange pair left the inn, to walk the battered streets of rebuilding Waterdeep. On their way they stopped by a place where an acquaintance of Deekin's, a shopkeeper, began to open his store, despite the fact that most of his customers fell in one of many battles on the streets. As every morning they approached him and paid for a beautiful bouquet of flowers, red roses today, the elderly man was bringing in just for them. After few polite words Valen learned by heart in Common, they resumed their walk, eventually leading them to one of the most peaceful sections of the former City of Splendors. They stopped before a two-storey house, more of a villa, some time in the past reduced to half of its size, after a nearby temple was chosen to be rebuilt.

Deekin entered the small house first, while Valen waited outside with the bouquet. After a minute kobold's scaled head showed in the doorframe again, inviting the tiefling in with the word "Sleeps!" whispered in Deekin's excited croaky whisper.

"Good morning" Linu, a priestess of Sehanine Moonbow, Valen came to know in past few days and Deekin already heard much about, greeted them almost quietly, the impression ruined by the priestess stumbling on one of the flowerpots. The tiefling hurried immediately to catch the falling plant, one they bought two days ago – tulips, also red. Deekin put the today's roses into a free vase, already prepared before their arrival. Then the pair of newcomers sat beside a bed, surrounded by flowers from all sides, brought by the many visitors Linu's patient had.

"Is she any better today?" Valen whispered a question, not to wake the sleeping half-elf.

"She still doesn't speak, but other than that she's slowly recuperating" Linu tried to whisper an answer. "It will take long to heal all the frost bites, and it will take a lot of regenerative spells, but so far none of the damage is permanent."

How hard it must have been for her to use her voice in the battle with the archdevil… But her voice saved him, saved the entire city and defeated the fiend. Few words and knowledge. And her will that allowed her to speak despite that the cold that froze her body almost to a statue of ice.

"I'll prepare some tea." Linu stated loud, forgetting that she should keep her voice down, additionally stepping on one of the empty vases, placed on the ground, which resulted in a loud crack of breaking glass. Valen could visit Varia'del only as long as she slept, for her recovery she needed peace and comfort and seeing him wouldn't bring her any of it. Every morning he let Deekin enter first, just to make sure he wouldn't disturb her. He longed to talk to her, to apologize and to try to explain himself, but more than that he wanted her to be healthy and now that they were both safe nothing could stop him from giving her as much rest as she needed. Valen felt as if he had all the time of the world.

Brown eyes opened slowly, stirred by her noise, but immediately turned to him. For a brief moment he considered leaving the room at once, but it was too late, now that she realized he was there.

Her lips parted and struggle to speak became evident on her face. She licked her dry lips and tried again. He leaned over her to hear her better. Whatever she was meant to say, he probably deserved it.

"I love you…" Her voice was like a rustle of dry leaves. Each day she waited to see him by her side, waiting to tell him those three words. But every time she woke he was already gone and only new bouquet of flowers was there to mark his presence.

A tender smile appeared on tiefling's lips when he heard her, along with some measure of surprise in his eyes.

"I love you too" he answered.

_/I'd be happy to know your opinions –viv/_


End file.
